Bruised
by Mucada
Summary: Remus.Tonks: 'I noticed every line and wrinkle on his face, but there weren’t many, just around the eyes. I knew he thought there were more.' HBP SPOILERS.


Title: Bruised  
Author: Mucada  
Rating: PG-13 for language  
Disclaimer: Jo's, not mine. Lyrics belong to Suzanne Buirgy.  
Summary: "I noticed every line and wrinkle on his face, but there weren't many, just around the eyes. I knew he thought there were more." Remus-Tonks HBP SPOILERS. Takes place during the summer between Harry's 5th and 6th year.

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_Fumbling in the dark  
-I'm bruised-  
From banging into things_  
-Buirgy

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"How long have you been able to do that?" I asked, astonished at the man standing near the empty boxes. Sandy hair, rumpled from sleep, hung in front of his tired green eyes. I pretended not to notice how his humble approach to this moment made something inside of me flutter with anticipation. We were in the old study he had claimed as his, and I was assisting him in emptying the room. Molly had gathered a few of the members to comb the old headquarters for any evidence of our inhabitance before it was handed over to the next Black. The room was dark as dusk fell outside, and he had just produced a blue ball of fire in his hand, without a wand, to see the room more clearly. I stood mesmerized.

"Well," he said, blue flame still held in his open balm and his wand lying on the table in behind us, "It was many years ago, and I found myself in a rather…tricky situation where I had lost my wand. I had no choice, really, when the man found me in his garden sleeping amongst the plants, and he was a muggle too. I had lost my wand days ago, and had no reason for it until then. He had a gun," and noticing my confused expression added hastily, "weapon they use to kill, with metal bullets. But I just thought," he continued, starting to pull books off the shelf with the light from his flame above him, "there's no way I'll get out of this one. I just…willed myself to perform this wandless magic. In my mind's eye I saw his gun flying out of his hands and landing meters away. And well," he shrugged, his back to me, "just that happened. He then fainted on the spot and I made a break for it. But only after I looted his garden and storage house." His voice suggested he was smiling as he said this.

I laughed, for no reason really and said, "That's just brilliant, Remus!" I stood up and joined him near the bookshelf. I gazed perplexed at his hand, reaching outcautious fingersto the blue flame. It felt cool. "What else can you do?" I asked, running my hand through the flame.

"Nothing complex: simple summoning spells, this," he said hoarsely, gesturing to his hand, "and levitation."

"Wicked," I exclaimed softly, as we both looked down at our hands held out in front of us, our faces illuminated by the soft blue light. I noticed every line and wrinkle on his face, but there weren't many, just around the eyes. I knew he thought there were more.

"It's going to be weird, you know, not being here," he said, soft eyes holding mine in the loveliest way. I then, at that moment, remembered every time we had shared Bourbon or Firewhiskey in this room, and every time he introduced me to one of his muggle records. I remembered the first time I found him here, smoking early in the morning. I remembered his voice and his music too.

"Yea…" I responded, busying myself by pulled books off the shelf and dumping them into the nearest levitating box. I dropped one and exclaimed a little too loudly, "Fuck!" until I noticed that the light went out in his hand and that we were bending over at the same time. Our heads met in the middle, and we both cursed at the impact. Loosing my balance, I fell backwards and I felt him instantly kneel next to me.

"Nice one, Tonks," he said jokingly. There was no harsh tone in his voice. My eyes began to adjust to the sudden darkness and when my sight came back I found his eyes –those eyes- the little gleam coming in from the closed curtains reflecting with their movements.

He held out a hand and I took it. I realized it was the same hand that held the flame and it was warm, even though the flame never actually produced heat. Pulling me up in a sitting position, and wrapping one arm around my shoulders, he steadied me.

"Do it again," I whispered, for no reason really. A few seconds went by, and I wondered if he understood me.

He then smiled softly in the darkness and I looked down at his hand that held mine. With his other hand in a fist held in front of me, he opened it as if to reveal something and the small flame appeared again. It started off small, but grew to the size it was before. And there he sat in front of me on the floor, barefoot with a shirt missing too many buttons, and I was reminded why I thought he was so beautiful.

"Teach me," I then said. I had not yet released his other hand. What were we doing here on the dusty carpet in this old house? I was about to find out.

"I can't," was all he said, looking down at our hands, fingers somehow intertwined.

"But I want to learn, I think it would be useful." He subconsciously rubbed his thumb against my knuckles. I felt his breath against my hair. Today it was pink. I remembered him looking at it when I first saw him this morning. I kept it like that all day.

"I can't help you with that."

I forcefully exhaled, which came out sounding like a huff. He smiled, his eyes twinkling. They were still unusually green even in the blue light. Still smiling, he said, "Are you huffing, Nymphadora?"

"Don't call me that," I said in a low voice. Again, the light reflected on his face, and I saw the lines near his eyes. I reached up to touch them slowly, fingers unsure.

"There aren't that many, you know," I said as he sighed. I know I caused him pain, but I didn't care because I loved him, even the wrinkles.

"What are we doing?"

"Does it matter?" I asked, close enough to feel his breath against my face, which smelled like whatever he had smoked earlier.

"We can't, Tonks, this isn't the time."

"I told you already, I don't care about any of that," I said, noticing the pleading tone in my own voice. He hadn't moved, but the flame went out in his hand. His other remained in mine. It's true, I didn't care about his excuses, because that's all they were. He said it wasn't the right time, he was too dangerous. I could be a lot more dangerous than him, if he even knew. Stubborn as he was, I still held onto him.

"I don't deserve you," he said weakly. He still held my hand.

"Don't insult me by saying that," I retorted, warning in my voice.

I knew exactly why we were sitting on the floor in the dark, because I was moving closer to him and he wasn't resisting me as I took his face in my hands and kissed him. It wasn't as harsh as I expected it to be, because he was kissing me back and I was falling harder than I ever fell before.

And I hit the ground harder than any other time in my life, than any time I ever tripped over my own feet, and I hurt for a long time after, too.

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A/N: Now that this ship is canon, I feel that we're given little to work with. But my interpretation goes as follows: There's this building up, a mutual interest, there's stubborn denial on Remus' part and frustration on Tonks' part, there's a fall out, there's angst, there's unhappiness, there's arguments, there's discovering of the truth, there's falling back. And I think that's wherewe see them last, at the end of the book.  
For some reason, I'm very proud of this one. I like the context.

Please review:)


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